


Suddenly, Not Alone

by GaHoolianGirl



Series: Peregrination of the Boar and the Crow [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Introspection, Male-Female Friendship, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Non-Graphic Violence, Self-Esteem Issues, Tagged as Gen because they're on the romance path but the romance isn't the focus, They're headed to Orzammar and with the way I do things it's the last major quest they have to do, Zevran gets a mild case of poisoning but he's totally okay dw, but he's slowly getting better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:21:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25267519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaHoolianGirl/pseuds/GaHoolianGirl
Summary: Poison?As he fell to his knees he ran through his knowledge of the art, though it was a struggle. The pain he could handle, but it was fogging his mind,Darkspawn. Can't be complex. Fast acting, numbing, spreads slowly. Natural? Venom. Spider venom. Large spider venom."Zevran!!"His thoughts were disrupted by a pained voice shouting his name (though granted that wasn't hard to do at the moment), and he turned his head to see Gideon charging towards him, heavy armor clanging almost comically.He would have laughed, if he could.
Relationships: Zevran Arainai/Male Cousland, Zevran Arainai/Male Warden, Zevran Arainai/Warden
Series: Peregrination of the Boar and the Crow [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1844182
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	Suddenly, Not Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Hello I am back!!!!!! If you recognize the name Gideon Cousland, I recommend you click on the series this is a part of, because that explains where you might know him from and how he's different now.
> 
> All that said, this fic is mostly about Zevran lol, with some Zevwarden and Zev/Leli friendship mixed in.

It was all quite sudden.

Darkspawn had waylaid their party while they were on the move, travelling up towards the peaks of the Frostback mountains. It was only a small party, likely having crawled out through some small exposed tunnel rather than having come from the impending horde, but they still had the element of surprise on their side. 

Leliana and Zevran had been at point, for their keen eyes and familiarity with reconnaissance made them excellent scouts- but as rogues, they were left physically vulnerable. Ideally one of their Wardens would have been with them to sense incoming darkspawn, but Alistair was nursing a leg injury while Gideon guarded the rear as always. They all believed they were far enough from the horde that they could afford to take that risk.

Evidently not.

And while the darkspawn may be too mindless to _knowingly_ exploit that, that did not stop them from reaping the benefits of it. The terrain had become more icy as they climbed upwards, so the bard lost her footing as she strung her bow, leaving her vulnerable to attack. Zevran's instincts then took over, and he disengaged from his foe to assist his ally... but in doing so committed the greatest sin someone with his training could have.

He left his back exposed. 

His vulnerable, exploitable back.

His blades managed to find their way deep into the neck of the Hurlock about to bring it's mace down upon Leliana's head, but the relief he felt was brief, soon replaced with a feeling that was not as familiar as it used to be, but was still no stranger to him.

A blade pushing into his flesh.

He felt the distinct _fwoosh_ of an arrow flying by his head, as well as heard the unmistakable, piercing cry of a Genlock as it died, followed by the _thunk_ of a body hitting solid ground.

In fact, those were about the only sensations he felt at the moment. 

_Poison?_ As he fell to his knees he ran through his knowledge of the art, though it was a struggle. The pain he could handle, but it was fogging his mind, _Darkspawn. Can't be complex. Fast acting, numbing, spreads slowly. Natural? Venom. Spider venom. Large spider venom._

_"Zevran!!"_

His thoughts were disrupted by a pained voice shouting his name (though granted that wasn't hard to do at the moment), and he turned his head to see Gideon charging towards him, heavy armor clanging almost comically.

He would have laughed, if he could.

"Zevran, are you alright?" That soft tone, Leliana? That's right, he had saved her. Blast this newfound care for others.

"I will, be fine," he assured with great effort, "Not lethal poison, it can be treated quite easily. These darkspawn should have, _ahhhh,_ " despite himself, he groaned in pain, "Known better than to poison a former Crow."

He forced a smile on his face, an easy habit, "Besides, I am far too handsome... to die here. Have no fear."

"Now is hardly the time to joke-" Leliana began to admonish, nervousness seeping into her tone. Odd, it sounded almost like she didn't want him to die.

Perish the thought.

Zevran's eyesight had begun to blur somewhat by the time their companions reached them, but that did not stop him from being able to perceive the mortal terror etched onto Gideon's expression, made all the more pitiful as it formed around his myriad of scars. His face was not one meant to look like that, much less because of something related to Zevran.

"Are you alright?!" His deep voice, usually firm and commanding, pitched up in fear as he knelt beside the assassin, reaching out to pull the blade from his back before quickly thinking better of it, "Zevran!?"

Speech was harder now, but something, something he couldn't name, or really at this moment want to, compelled him to try anyway, "Non-lethal poison. Spider venom. With some antitoxin and healing I shall. Survive. _Only if soon._ "

Zevran's damnable survival instincts, which he once cursed, made his last words sound almost desperate. Weak. Worthless. He's absolutely useless now. They were just going to leave him to die for his mistake. Nothing else made sense-

"Leliana, search Zevran's bag for antitoxin, you have the best chance of spotting it. _Quickly_ ," Gideon's tone left no room for argument, "Wynne! We need you here! Shale or Sten, carry her if you must, just get her here _now!"_

"Warden... why?" he questioned weakly, slouching form being held up by one of Gideon's powerful arms. He couldn't quite manage to verbally complete his thought, _Why bother to save my life? I've proven myself a liability. Why not cast me aside, let my failure take me?_

Even if speech wasn't so difficult, the answer he received would have stunned him into silence.

"You can't die. I won't let you."

Gideon Cousland was a relatively stern man, Zevran had discovered in their months of acquaintance. He was not without humor or joy, but there was always a certain finality and authority to his words that marked him as someone not easily disobeyed.

And that became more apparent now than it ever had been.

The dangerous thoughts about why exactly this man wanted him alive would have to wait, however.

Years of training made him able to swallow back his cry when the blade was quickly yanked out from his back, as well as at the overlapping sting of the medicine being shoved into the wound and the feel of magic stitching his flesh back together.

But finally, after all that, a wave of relief washed over him. If he were any other man, perhaps he could have lost consciousness at the overwhelming ebb and flow of sensation, but he had training for exactly moments like these, so his eyes remained open, though with significantly impaired function.

"...we're setting up camp," Gideon announced, looking around the group for any signs of dissent. Morrigan and Sten seemed like they had opinions on the matter (Shale likely did as well, but thoughts were rarely discerned from their stony visage) but kept it to themselves.

And so, only perhaps a two hours walk (if they walked _briskly_ ) from the gates of Orzammar, the group made camp for the evening.

* * *

"Feeling better?" Gideon approached Zevran by the fire that night, who was sharpening his blades with an unusual amount of purpose behind his movements. He had rested for several hours (against his will, but under the threat of chastisement from both the Warden and Wynne), though he hadn't shut his eyes.

He merely used that time to think.

He put aside the blade and whetstone to put on his usual cheerful face, "Fear not, my dear Warden. Your devilishly handsome assassin will be at your disposal come morning."

However, this damnable Grey Warden surprised him as always.

"That's good to hear, but I'm mainly concerned about your health. This rotten Blight has taken so much, I won't let any of my people die."

"You-" a fit of laughter overtook Zevran, causing Gideon to look on with a mixture of concern at the outburst and relief that he seemed well, "You are among the most practical and ruthless men I have ever met- and trust me, there was stiff competition- yet also the most sentimental. My dear Warden, you are an incomprehensible mystery."

"Am I now? I always thought I was quite a simple man, but I'll take your word for it," Gideon's smiles may be small, chained down by the scarring that covered the left half of his face, but that never made them less stunning when they came, "I hope I'm a mystery worth solving to you?"

"The most worthy I could find, no doubt."

Even he was surprised by the sincerity in his words, by how deeply he meant that. No one ever before had valued his life for a simple reason such as that; he had been a pawn, been useful, worth keeping as an asset. But here was a man who would fight for his life, gave it worth simply because they knew one another.

Because he _cared._

Zevran was being _cared for._

That was a terrifying, exhilarating, earth shattering discovery that made him want to run. Run far away, back to Antiva even.

Yet it also chained him to that very spot, basking in the warm sensation that felt very much like being under the sun on a warm, Antivan summer day, despite the fact that above them was a crystal clear night sky.

Perhaps... he needn't examine the telltale thumping in his chest at this moment. Perhaps he could simply let himself, for just this moment, _feel,_ consequences be damned.

"Thank you, Warden," he finally spoke, in a voice much more tender than his usual jovial tone, which softened the already soft smile on Gideon's face.

"Of course, Zevran. I can't claim to call myself a great man, or even a good one, but I look out for my own. Howe's massacre and Ostagar gave me my fill of the death of those close to me. I swore to myself, never again."

While his tone may seem level to anyone who hadn't travelled with him for months, Zevran could easily discern the quiet fury under those words. He did not know the man before the events he spoke of, but it was obvious there was a massive shift in his character, a great pain he shouldered from those events.

And beside himself, Zevran wanted to help ease that burden, no matter the cost.

He. Wanted to help another, with their _emotions._

The Crows would have a fit, and that was enough to decide that it was worth the fear and trepidation that came with it.

"We seem to define 'great' quite differently, my friend. Capable, strong, mindful of those in your care... and _of course,_ quite handsome, we cannot forget that."

Gideon shook his head fondly, tracing a hand over his numerous facial scars before leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "Ha! You're still the only person I can imagine saying I'm handsome, looking like this."

"Truly, most have no appreciation of the finer things in life! Scars represent strength! While there is much appealing about... _untouched_ beauty, as it were, there is just as much to admire about the marks that show one has survived, even when fate had other plans."

The Warden was silent for a moment, contemplating what was said to him, before smiling once again, "Here I was, supposed to be checking up on you, but now you're comforting me. So selfish."

"It is not selfish to take what is freely given, I'd wager. My praise is always accurate and irrefutable, rest assured," Zevran couldn't contain his grin, and it was thoroughly sincere.

"Oh, then I supposed I can't really argue, then," Gideon stood, reaching a hand out that suspiciously looked like it may attempt to stroke Zevran's cheek before changing course and patting his shoulder.

The dangerous part was the assassin couldn't quite tell if he was disappointed or not.

"I'm glad you're alright, Zevran. Get some rest, we head for Orzammar at first light."

His tone had hardened again like ice over a wintry lake, back to the unyielding commander who shielded them all. 

Suddenly, Zevran felt rather lonely.

He dismissed the thought; he was lucky enough to see the softer side of their leader as it was, he would take what he could, no more and no less.

"Yes, goodnight, my dear Warden."

As he watched the retreating form of the man who made his insides feel like a tempestuous storm, he felt a light hand tap his shoulder. Only one of their companions was skilled enough to mask her presence from him.

"Ahh, Leliana."

"How are you feeling, Zevran?" she took a seat beside him, seemingly delicate posture airtight defensively; if there was anyone foolish enough to attack her, they would be very sorry indeed.

"Well enough, I supposed. I have been poisoned far worse than that before, my dear. I shall be fine."

For the second time that night, he was taken aback.

He had known Leliana as someone who he could trust in a fight, but to be regarded with a degree of apprehension. She had talents in manipulation and subtlety that would make many of his former brethren cry with envy. But now her expression softened, genuinely, as she told him "Thank you for saving my life."

Feeling as if his throat was full of cotton, he turned away to sheath his dagger, "Ah it was... nothing. Things happen, as you well know."

"Yes, they do, and that is often when we find out who your true friends are."

Now he whipped his head to face her, expression not truly _angry,_ but too incensed to be simply confused, "Friends? Us? Are you quite serious?"

"Why shouldn't I be? Gideon trusts you, and you have proven your loyalty well enough. Of course if you prove me wrong I will be the one to kill you myself-"

He believed her.

"-but I have faith well enough that you will not. We have no reason not be friends."

"Are threats commonplace in declarations of friendship? I cannot claim to be expert enough to know otherwise."

She rose to her feet, smiling once again, "Just among people like ourselves, Zev."

Zev. So few people ever called him that anymore.

"Good night, rest well. Gideon was beside himself earlier," she added as she moved to leave, undeniable teasing lilt in her voice, "It would just break his heart if you did not recover properly."

"Hush, you," he replied with no real bite, choosing to look up at the stars instead of watching her go. Twice in one night he was reminded that... his life had some value, to the people he travelled with now. His death would no longer just be the loss of an asset, no more tragic than cargo tossed overboard a ship.

His loss would make people grieve.

Perhaps he should have realized this, when remembering the feeling left in chest when Rinna... when Taliesin... but logical paled to emotion, he found, and he wasn't truly able to understand that he could make others feel how he felt that day, until told so to his face.

Shock ran through him like an errant lightning spell when the realization hit him- he wanted to _live._ Live for these people, to see the Warden succeed, to fight and laugh another day. Those demons could and likely will return to try and poison his thoughts, but for this moment, for the moment he was in now, he did not want to die.

To be with Rinna again would make others feel as he had. Even for him, that was far too cruel.

Deciding he should take the twice given advice to rest, he stood to make his way to his tent, thoughts still swirling in his head. Before he entered, he cautioned a look out towards the great gates of Orzammar, which were barely visible over the trees. Tomorrow they'd be going underground, likely entering the Deep Roads, hellish darkspawn infested tunnels that even the bravest Crow dared not enter.

But yet, he felt no fear.

Because he would not be alone.•

**Author's Note:**

> This got a little away from me, it was originally mostly going to be an intro to the new and improved Gideon, but then it became about Zevran realizing he doesnt wanna die anymore. I hope you enjoyed!


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